Everlasting
by daydreamer9898
Summary: Isabelle loves Simon, and Simon loves Isabelle. But Magnus loved Alec too, and Alec loved Magnus, as well; and yet their great love has ended. So, what makes Isabelle and Simon think that their love will last forever?
1. The Truth About Love

"I guess... I have to go... now." Simon said, as they stopped in front of the Institute.

Isabelle looked down at their hands, entwined together. She smiled at the thought that he still hasn't let go of her hand yet, and she loved the idea that he never will. "Yes..."

"Well," he let go of her hand, and hesitated, but eventually let his hand fall to his side. Making sure that he doesn't grab her again, he stuffs them into his pockets. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she said. "I had a great time."

She kissed him on the cheek, and retreated into her home.

"What's wrong with Alec?" Isabelle asks as she saw her brother stomping upstairs. He had a bottle of Jack in his hand and his eyes were clearly not sober. He staggered, and she almost ran up to help him through whatever he was going through, if only Jace hadn't caught her by her elbows.

She looked up at him, and realized that there was definitely something wrong. There was something in Jace's eyes- sympathy. Not loss, not grief... but sympathy. There was a sigh of relief that escaped her lips. They didn't lose anyone, but obviously someone lost someone. They just had to offer sympathy.

"What happened, Jace?" she asked, her voice now lighter.

He loosened his grip, and eventually let his hand fall to his side. "He's going through a heartbreak."

"Magnus broke up with him?!" the disbelief in her voice was thick and obvious. She could feel her heart beating faster, and Jace knew exactly what was happening. She was going through hysteria.

"Keep your voice down, Isabelle." he hissed, leaning closer to her. "Do you think he wants to hear that again?!"

"No, I'm sorry." her voice was calm, quiet. She could feel her heart beating in a slower pace.

"Why did they break up?" she whispered.

She still couldn't believe that they broke up. They seemed so happy together, like nothing could ever go wrong with them, and now. . . She's never seen Alec like this before. Never seen him drink- he wouldn't even hold a bottle of liquor! And now he's drinking the crap out of alcohol.

"He wouldn't say." there was worry in Jace's voice, and Isabelle knew why. They've never seen Alec like this before, and they don't know what he's capable of, at the moment.

"I need an answer," she said. "I need to know why."

"And you think Alec will tell you?" it was a rhetorical question.

But she answered, anyway. "No. But Magnus will."

She stepped back to the elevator, and was halfway done with closing the gate, when Jace effortlessly yanked her out. "No, you won't." he said.

"Yes, I will!" she said, shrugging his hand off of her arms, but with no success. His grip on her was too tight, and he was like a boa constrictor. The more she resisted, that tighter it got.

"It's late," he said. "You can see him tomorrow, but not tonight."

She took in a deep breath. "Okay, fine."

"Go to bed." he said, stepping behind her, so that he was right between her and the elevator.

She shrugged, and walked away. Though, she took one last look at the elevator as she climbed the first three steps of the stairs, and saw Jace standing still as a statue with his arms across his chest. He smiled smugly at her, and gestured for her to proceed upstairs, with his index finger.

Isabelle cursed under her breath, exhausted, as she wrapped her hand around the door knob to her door.

"Isabelle." it was a familiar voice, but still so different. It was strained with pain and agony and... well, alcohol.

"Alec!" she gasped, startled by his sudden appearance. He hugged the walls for support as he staggered, coming closer to her.

"Where have you been?" he asked, in a stern voice.

"I- I was out with-"

"Simon?" he interrupted, with disgust in his voice. "You know you should stay away from that filthy Downworlder."

"Alec, you're drunk," she said, annoyed by what he had said. He was right in front of him, now. Leaning on the wall beside her door. "You don't know what you're saying."

"I know what I'm saying, Isabelle." he said. He swung the tip of the bottle to his lip, and gulped it down, loudly. "I'm saying the truth." He shook the bottle, and realized it was empty. He cursed under his breath, and threw the bottle to the wall across from him. The bottle shattered into tiny pieces, and it didn't seem to bother him. He straightened up- as straight as someone drunk could be- and laid his hand on his sister's shoulders. "This relationship," he whispered. "that you have with that vampire is not going anywhere."

She stepped away from him, letting him stagger in front of her. He fell to his knees, and he didn't bother getting up. There was a sting in her eyes, and she could feel tears welling up in her eyes. They trickled down her cheeks. "You know nothing."

"Do I know nothing?" he said, his voice strained. It took her a moment to realize that it was actually a sob. He was crying, his head was down. "I know everything I need to know."

"And what is it?"

"Love is an illusion." he finally looked up at her, and she could see how sea-like his blue eyes were. It's always been as blue as the waters of the sea, but it shows even more now that there're water streaming from it. "You're a smart girl, Izzy. You know better than just to fall in love."

"I'm not going to stay away from him, Alec." her voice was barely audible, muffled by the thick layer of tears behind her throat. "Because I love him, and I won't stop loving him just because of _your_ break-up." She slid into her room, as fast as she can. She didn't want to spend another second outside with her brother and hear him babble about how her relationship should end.

She locked the door behind her, just in time as her knees gave in. She curled up into a ball on the floor, crying her eyes out, until it became harder and harder to breathe. She rolled onto her back, gasping for air. She let the air fill her lungs. She sat up, with her back against her door. Oblivious to the fact that Alec was on the other side of the door, crying as she is.

Maryse's words suddenly entered upon her children's mind, and they can't seem to get it out. Alec believed her, and Isabelle did, too, but she doesn't want to think that Alec is right.

"_Hearts are breakable_," Maryse had once said to them, after the big mishap between her and Robert. "_And even when you heal, you're never what you were before._"

"Simon won't break my heart." Isabelle murmured to herself.


	2. The Truth About Time

Magnus's phone buzzed, and he reached out to the bedside table to see who it was. For some reason, he wanted it to be him. He wanted it to be Alec, telling him that time doesn't matter, or something like that. But to his disappointment, it was his sister.

**_Wanna grab some coffee?_**the text said.

He replied, **_I'd say no, but I know insistent you could be. I'm on my way._**

There was no need to ask her for the time and place, because he knows that there's only one cafe` that she actually likes- that Italian cafe` a few blocks away from the Institute... a few blocks away from the love of his long life.

Magnus took a quick shower, and grabbed a pair of designer jeans and a black v-neck shirt. He also grabbed a dark trench coat, and a blue scarf. Its blue reminded him of Alec's mesmerizing eyes. He walked out of his apartment, absent-mindedly. He already knew why Isabelle wants to see him- to ask him why he broke up with Alec, the man he loved so much.

He thought of a lie, but none was good enough. _Why would I have to lie?_ he asked himself.

Before he knew it, he was already at the cafe`. He found Isabelle seated at one of the sidewalk tables, provided with a big green umbrella as shade against the bright rays of the sun. She looked up to see him, and smiled, waving her hand. He walked over to her, reluctantly, and sat across from her.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" she asked.

"Wonderful." he agreed.

"But you know who's having a miserable morning?" she looked him straight in the eye, her dark ones piercing his cat ones. He tried to look away, but he couldn't. It was as if she held his eyes, pinning them in place. She continued when he didn't answer, "Alec. He's having a miserable day because of his hangover from two things: Jack and _you_."

Magnus pictured Alec as a drunk man. With his beautiful eyes, not sober and full of intoxication. He pictured him staggering through the halls of the Institute.

He felt sick to his stomach.

His thoughts were interrupted by a young woman in a white polo and black skirt. She stood by him, expectantly.

"I'm sorry?" he asked, realizing that she had asked him a question and he didn't hear it.

The girl smiled politely. "Is there anything you'd like to have?"

"Oh, uhh... One hazelnut latte, please." he finally said.

"Do you love my brother?" Isabelle asked, when the waitress disappeared into the small shop.

"With my whole heart." he answered, and took a sip from his cup. It was good coffee. He understood her now- why she loves this place.

"Then, why?"

"To spare myself some of the pain."

"What do you mean?"

"Dear, Isabelle," he said, leaning forward. "let me tell you a story. A tragic tale of love, and the brutality of time."

Isabelle leaned forward, intrigued. "Does this story involve you?"

Magnus nodded. "It was in London- well, let's not elaborate on the year." he took in a deep breath, and continued. "There was this girl, beautiful as a princess even though she wasn't. Her skin was as fair and flawless as the buds of a white rose, and her-"

"Okay, let't not get carried away." Isabelle interrupted, disgusted by his cheesy details.

"Her name was Beatrice," he continued. She heard the pain in his voice as he said the girl's name. "Her mother, an owner of an apothecary, was a good friend of mine. Her mother, Violetta, was a friend of mine when she was only a young girl herself. I watched her grow up, I watched her get married, I watched her breathe her last breath in her death bed. Before she died, she asked me to look after her daughter, Beatrice. And so, I did-" he stopped talking as the waitress came, and placed the cup of coffee in front of him.

"Thanks." he said, quietly.

"My pleasure, sir." she said, and went away again.

He turned to look at Isabelle, and had not noticed how intent her attention was to his story. He continued, seeing the eager curiosity in her eyes. "I watched Beatrice grow up. I was everything she needed- a father, a mentor, a friend, and eventually... a lover.

"I fell in love with her, as she fell in love with me. I married her when she turned sixteen. We've been together every minute of every day. We were inseparable. Until she turned twenty, thirty, forty... She noticed how much she's aged, and how I was still as young as ever... and she was _curious_ of me.

"So, I told her. She said that I was a monster, the devil himself. She was afraid of me." Magnus cringed in his seat, his hand gripped the edge of the table, hard enough that her knuckles were white.

His eyes were on Isabelle, but not quite seeing her. He was in London again. In that small house. He saw Beatrice- her beautiful soft dandelion hair flowing around her, radiantly- grow smaller and smaller, trying to stay away from him. He shrieked, as loud as she can.

"The devil!" she screamed. "Help! The devil is in my house!"

"Beatrice, my love," Magnus said, hushing her. He touched her hair, but she coiled away from him, as if his touch was poison.

"Help!" she continued to wail. "The devil has taken my husband!"

And in that moment, he saw her. Her green eyes bright with terror and hatred... and pain and agony. She cried. He saw the damage he was doing to her.

Guilty, he went out the door, as fast as he can. He ran away from the small town, away from the townsmen who searched for him, thinking that he was the devil who took Magnus Bane. But the truth is, the devil didn't take Magnus Bane, Magnus Bane is the devil.

After a few years, he came back. News was all over town that Beatrice was ill and that there was nothing to cure her. He came to their old house one night. He saw her lying on the bed, her chest barely rising. Her skin was wrinkled and sagging, her hair was no longer the bright color of dandelion, but white. She was old, not anymore beautiful. Time has washed away her beauty.

The floor creaked as he walked slowly to her side. Her eyes fluttered. Despite the change in her body, her eyes were still the same soft green. They widened at the sight of him, and she started wheezing.

"Ssshhh," Magnus hushed, softly. "This is me, not the devil."

And she believed him, thinking that it was her death that has dawned upon her. Thinking that she was to be taken away by none other than the love of her life. She relaxed, and dragged her hand to find his. He took her hand in both of his, warming her little cold fingers.

"Where have you been?" her voice was weak and quiet.

"I'm always here." he said, it wasn't a lie. "I'm everywhere, watching you from a great distance."

"Take me away, please." a tear rolled down her temples, dropping onto her hair. "It hurts. It's painful to be here."

Pain, though not physical, surged through him. There was a sting in his eyes, and suddenly there were tears everywhere. "Yes, my dear."

He whispered something under his breath- a spell. And her heart's beats slowed, and eventually stopped.

"You killed her?" Isabelle's eyes were wide and teary.

"For her own good." he said quietly.

"You see, Isabelle," he continued. "it's not easy. It's not easy to watch the people you love grow old while you stay young, and I... I don't want to see the same thing that happened to Beatrice happen Alec. I don't want to see him wither..."

"But you still really love him, right?"

"Yes. Just because I gave up, doesn't mean I stopped loving him."

"Do you love Simon?" he asked.

Isabelle was taken aback by his question. "Of course!"

"You should stay away from him."

"Who are you to tell me that?!"

"Not for you, but for him." he continued, ignoring her. "It will hurt him more than it will hurt you."

* * *

_**I know it's self-insertion, but I still did it. I named Magnus's first love after me, and I REGRET NOTHING.**_


	3. About A Girl

_This relationship that you have with that vampire is not going anywhere._

_Love is an illusion._

_Hearts are breakable._

_Her name was Beatrice._

_You should stay away from him. Not for you, but for him. It will hurt him more than it will hurt you._

Isabelle woke up with those words swirling around her head. She looked to her side, and to her surprise, Simon was there. He looked back at her with a blank expression.

"Simon," she said, relieved that he was there after everything she's heard.

He didn't move, didn't say anything. He stayed like that, like a statue. "Simon?" she said again, reaching up to him. She rested her hand on his face.

The horror was horrifying. The hand that she has placed upon his young face was wrinkled and sagging and... old.

She gasped, and took a closer look at her hand. She bolted upright, and found that there was pain in her hips, as she moved. She stood up from the bed, and walked toward her dresser. The mirror reflected an old woman, not Isabelle Lightwood. The old woman's hair was white, her skin was wrinkled, everything about her was not Isabelle. She was old and ugly, while Isabelle is supposed to be young and beautiful.

"No," she gasped. Her voice was raspy. An image of rusted metal came into her head. That was probably how her throat looked like- old and rusted.

Simon emerged into the mirror. He stood next to her, and she could see the comparison.

Simon looked sixteen, as he always does. And she didn't look like her girlfriend anymore; much worse, she looked like his grandmother.

"How do you expect me love you, now?" Simon asked, quietly. There was resentment in his voice.

"Simon," she called, and she wrapped her frail fingers around his wrist, keeping him from going away. He flinched away from her touch, and eventually left, jumping out of the window. "Simon!"

* * *

Isabelle woke up, with his name on her lips. Her face was moist with fresh tears. She immediately jumped out of bed, and ran to her dresser, seeing her long jet black, silky hair and her beautiful, fair skin. She let out a sigh of relief.

Her phone buzzed in front of her, and she picked it up immediately, seeing the caller I.D.

"Simon!" she said.

"Hey, Izzy," he said cheerfully from the other side of the line. "You ready?"

"Ready for what?" she asked, confused. Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw a piece of crumpled paper pinned to material of her dresser.

"Please tell me you haven't forgotten," there was disappointment and dismay in his voice.

"Of course not!" she lied, picking up the piece of paper. "Actually, I'm already getting ready for it. Good luck on your performance!"

"I'll see you!" he said, then hung up.

* * *

Simon scanned the crowd, and felt his lips curl up in amazement. The place was full of people, as in not just full, but overcrowded. They've never seen a crowd this big to one of their shows. This was a first.

Though, the room was full of people, jumping up and down, swaying back and forth, bodies colliding to the chaotic rhythm; he was only searching for one person. And he found her, seated at a table with his redheaded best friend, and Maia. She didn't look happy, in fact, she looked like she didn't want to be hear. It wasn't because of Maia, it couldn't be. For all he knew, they were okay, now. But why?

Why, Isabelle? he thought.

Seeing that he was looking at her, she smiled, weakly.

"You okay?" he mouthed. She nodded quickly.

The song ended, and Eric and Jordan said something about the next song on their setlist.

"Actually," Jordan started. "this song was written by our resident bassist, Simon Lewis-" he pointed at Simon. Simon looked up in surprise, not expecting the other guys to acknowledge his song. Jordan winked, and Eric continued on the introduction.

Isabelle blushed, knowing that it was probably about her. She shied away from Simon's eyes, and looked down at her hands. Clary nudged her by the elbow. She'd never felt so humble.

Once they were done, the whole crowd cheered, like supporting fans.

The lead guitar started at the intro, and Simon followed with his bass. Jordan started singing:

_Come closer now whisper a secret_  
_A story about a girl_  
_No you don't need to know what her name is _  
_I wrote about her before_

_I wish I were the cigarettes, _  
_Tucked down deep in her pockets_  
_She'd light me up _  
_Let me swing from her lips like a circus show_

_This ain't a show_  
_No it's a song for a girl_  
_She's making my head spin_  
_Making me slur my words._  
_This is a song about a girl_  
_This is a song about love, _

_Love la-la-la-love _  
_I won't forget her name_  
_I'll always love her the same_  
_My love, love la-la-la-la-la-la-love_  
_This is all for you. _

_Strike the match, _  
_Burn me down till I'm nothing _  
_Like a vision she swims through_  
_The sheets on my mattress_  
_She sets me on fire through the afterglow_  
_Like a fireworks show._

_This ain't a show_  
_No it's a song for a girl_  
_She's making my head spin_  
_Making me slur my words._  
_This is a song about a girl_  
_This is a song about love, _

_Love la-la-la-love _  
_I won't forget her name_  
_I'll always love her the same_  
_My love, love la-la-la-la-la-la-love_  
_This is all for you. _

Jordan pointed the mic to Simon's mouth, and Simon sang:

_If you want promises baby I got 'em._  
_Bought a plastic ring if you want it._  
_Cause we're growing up girl, _  
_But damn we're still young._  
_If we jump we could fall, _  
_If we jump we could fall in love._

Jordan took the mic away from Simon, and belched out the words:

_Love, la-la-la-love _  
_I won't forget her name_  
_I'll always love her the same_  
_My love, love la-la-la-la-la-la-love_  
_This is all for you. _

_Oh my love this is all for love, la-la-la-la-la-la-love._  
_Love this is all for you._

As soon as the song and the cheering stopped, Eric apologized on how it was the last song of the afternoon, and the crowd started chanting 'More!'

And so, they were forced to do one more song. At the last song, the crowd seemed to reach their content, and slowly left the place.

Simon found her way to Isabelle who wrapped her arms around her neck, as soon as she saw him.

"That song was amazing." she whispered in his ears.

"It's for you." he whispered in hers.

"I know." she said, backing away. "Thanks."

Simon really noticed that there was something wrong. She was different. She looked as if something's bothering her, and before he could ask, she said, "I need to talk to you. Later?"

He nodded, and watched her leave.

"What's wrong?" Clary asked. She put her arm around his.

"I don't know." Simon answered.

"Well, I'm pretty sure everything's okay. Maybe it's just Alec...?" she said, comfortingly.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Maybe."


	4. Idea

Simon was seated on the first of five steps up to the the Institute.

"You came!" Isabelle said, as she came out of the Institute's door.

He looked up and met her eyes. Something about them made him look away. He didn't want to see the worry in her eyes. _It's okay_, he thought to himself.

"Of course I came." he answered. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno." she said, quietly. She sat beside him, and looked up at the dark night sky. The stars were barely visible, and the moon was shaded by the dark clouds.

"Isabelle, is there anything wro-"

"Do you love me, Simon?" she interrupted. She didn't wait for his answer, and asked a bunch of questions. "Will you love me? Will you love me when I'm old and ugly? Will you?"

Simon turned face her, and she saw the worry in his eyes. He placed his hand on her hands, and raised the other on her cheek. His thumb ran over a tear, that she didn't even realize was there. "Yes, I love you, Isabelle. I _will_ love you, even when you're old and wrinkled and not as pretty as you are now. I don't love you because you're beautiful."

"Why do you love me, then?" she asked. She leaned in on the hand rested on her cheek.

"Because you're smart and brave and strong and fierce." he smiled. "And you're a total badass."

She chuckled. Simon was the only person who could do that- make her laugh when she's crying. "I'm not a badass." she said in a muffled voice. "I'm not strong. I'm not brave. And I'm as fierce as a bunny... But I _am_ smart."

"Now, tell me where all this is coming from." he dropped his hand, and took both of hers in both of his, creating a protective shell around them.

"Magnus told me why he broke up with Alec," she dropped her gaze to their hands. She saw a tear drop to his hand. "Then he told me about Beatrice."

"Who's Beatrice?" he asked.

"Beatrice is her first human love." she answered, mimicking the voice of a lovesick fool. "She was human, and he married her. And she grew old while he stayed young, and-"

"You think someday we'd be in their position?" he guessed the problem. She nodded, but the movement was so small he barely noticed it. "Maybe we will," he let out an exasperated sigh.

"I don't see how that's supposed to comfort me." she mumbled.

"It won't comfort you," he agreed. "but I'm not trying to comfort you."

"Then, what are you doing?"

"Understanding Magnus." he mused. "Poo old dude, isn't he?"

Isabelle shifted closer to him, and rested her head on his shoulder. Her hands were still in his. They both gazed up, at the clouded sky.

"He told me to stay away from you." she whispered.

"Will you?"

"I don't know." she shrugged. "Do you want me to? He said it was more for you than for me."

"Of course I don't want you to." he dropped his gaze from the sky to her face, and found that her eyes were close. Her long lids fluttered. He planted a kiss on her forehead.

"You'll get hurt." she warned.

"I don't mind." he said. "I'm a vampire, Isabelle. I'm going to hell, anyway, so why not spend a little time with my heaven while heaven's still by my side."

"I'm... heaven, aren't I?" she said smugly.

"Yes," he whispered. "and when you die... Living without you will be the price I pay."

"You're so cheesy, Lewis." she chuckled.

"Well, I'm not the one who started this conversation, Lightwood." he said, debating half-heartedly.

"Sing me a line from that song you wrote." she sighed.

"If you want promises baby I got 'em." he started. "Bought a plastic ring if you want it. Cause we're growing up girl, but damn we're still young. If we jump we could fall, if we jump we could fall in love."

"Now, I know why you're just the bassist." she joked.

He laughed, and she could feel the shaking of his body. It filled her with hysteria, and together they laughed like lunatics.

Isabelle grew silent, and Simon saw that she was thinking deeply. "What are you thinking, Isabelle Lightwood?"

"No one approves of us," she said, her voice a monotone. "we could run away." she raised her head from his shoulder and looked up at him with expectant eyes. "We could do it, Simon! We could!"

"Isabelle, it's not that easy." he argued.

"Yes, it is, Si!" she protested. "We could run away! We could escape from them!"

"It's late," he said in a stern voice. "Go to bed. Think it through. Let's see what you think tomorrow."

Isabelle hesitated, but realizing that Simon was serious and the conversation was over, she stomped into the Institute and slammed the door shut behind her.

"Let's see what you think tomorrow." Simon whispered to himself. "You're so stubborn, Isabelle."

He got up, and dusted himself with his hands. The breeze grew cold, he could tell by its brizzling sound, but he didn't feel it. He didn't feel hot or cold anymore, but still, he always wore a jacket out of habit.

The moon shone brightly, now. He looked up at the window of the Institute, and saw Alec staring down at him with an if-looks-could-kill look. He hurried on his way, away from Alec's glare.


	5. Plan

_Think it through_, Simon had said. _Let's see what you think tomorrow._

Isabelle stared blankly at the white ceiling that loomed above her. She hasn't slept through the night, and she barely noticed the morning sunshine streaming in from the window. She's been to preoccupied by the idea of running away. . . There was a lot to think about, Simon was right. But Isabelle already made her decision- they will run away. Away from the speculating eyes of the non-believers, the ones that had once known love but fell far away from it.

_No one could know_, she thought to herself. _Anyone who hears my plan will immediately freak out, and try to stop me. The next thing I'll know I'm chained up in the middle of some pentagram._

Yes, she's already made her decision, and nobody could ever make her change her mind. But even though, there was still a lot to think about. Like, how? When? And is it worth it? What if Alec was right? No. No, she can't afford to think that way. But. . . No. Nevermind.

"Isabelle?" an unfamiliar voice called from the other side of the door. It was from a female, and for all she knew, she was the only girl in the Institute. It couldn't have been Clary, though. Her voice isn't like that- her voice was a much more livelier.

"Isabelle?" she called again, much more louder, much more colder. "Isabelle!"

"Coming!" she finally said, jumping out of bed. For the first time the whole morning, she looked at the clock and saw the time. It was already 10:00. The whole room was lit up by the bright sunlight.

She opened the door, curious of who it might be. To her surprise, the woman behind it was both familiar and unfamiliar, at the same time. She had the same black her as Isabelle, but hers showed a few strands of grey. Her eyes were more like Alec's. They looked almost the same, if only the other woman didn't have a few noticeable wrinkles on her forehead, when she moves her eyebrows. She looked like an older version of Isabelle.

Isabelle remembered her dream from the other night, where she looked into the mirror and found her aged and decaying body. It sent shivers down her spine, and the other woman noticed.

"Are you okay, Iz?" she asked, in concern.

"Yes!" she answered almost too immediately. "M-mom! I- Wh-" she stumbled for words, and found that she couldn't speak properly. She jumped closer to her mother and wrapped her arms around her neck. "I missed you, mom." she finally said.

"Can you please tell me what's happening?" she said, breaking away from her daughter's embrace.

The question caught her off guard. "What?"

"I haven't seen the guys yet, and you, you're still in bed?" she shot her and incredulous look, as if to say, 'And you call yourself human?!'

"Jace is probably out with Clary... who knows? And Alec... well, Alec's probably-"

"Here." Alec chimed in. He didn't seem drunk, but he didn't seem sober, as well. There was an edge to his voice. "Hey, mom," he said, quite cheerfully and came to hug her. There was something... darker about him. Like there was some unspoken joke hiding behind those smile, but it didn't seem like a funny kind of joke, it seemed... dark and brutal? Is that even possible?

Is this the damage Magnus has caused him?

"Mom, can you give me and Izzy a moment, please?" he asked politely.

Maryse nodded, and left.

_No_, Isabelle wanted to say. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with her new brother.

"You were with Simon again last night?" he started. He looked down at his hands. There was a newly placed iratze on his wrist. "I hope that was because you broke up with him."

Something spark inside of her, like a bulb that has been switched on. "Yes," she tried to say it as sad as she can. She bit her tongue, and waited for her eyes to sting. Well, tears didn't pour out, but they turned swollen and red enough for Alec to believe.

"Good," he mused. He came closer, and wrapped his arms around her. "Very good."

* * *

"Simon?" Clary asked, taking him back away from his thoughts. "Is everything okay?"

He hadn't answered. He thought to himself if he should tell his best friend, or just keep it to himself. He knew that Isabelle's plan was insane and delusional, but. . . Did he take it seriously?

"Is it because of Isabelle?" she asked again. And this time, the question made him want to tell her.

"Isabelle is delusional," he said without thinking. He hadn't even realized he said it until Clary started giggling.

"You noticed that just now?"

"No, I mean-" he started, but he was cut off by Jace's approach.

"Hey," Clary greeted. There was a spark in her eyes. Simon knew how much she missed Jace. They hadn't seen each other for a long time.

His phone buzzed, and he checked it. It was from Isabelle: **_Coffee. Now._**

* * *

"I thought about it." she said immediately, as Simon sat down across from her. "I thought about it, and I will do it."

"Isabelle, can we-" he started, but for the second time that day, he was cut off by a Lightwood.

"I have a plan, just hear me out, please." she said, and she launched into discussing her plan. "We'll go to Seattle.

"Mom is home, and she barely notices anything- she's always in the library, so she's not a problem. Alec thinks I broke up with you, so I doubt he'll be suspicious. And Jace is too preoccupied to care about my life drama, so... escaping from the Institute is easy.

"We'll meet here. Tonight. At midnight. You have a car, right?"

"I do." Simon nodded. He didn't really care about running away, but he was in awe of how she thought about everything.

"I'll meet you here later," she said, barely looking at him. "I have to go."

And she left, leaving him there to wonder about everything.

Does he really want this? To run away with her? Of course he loves her, but do they really have to do this? This is delusional and unnecessary. Does he really want to carry on with it? To move away from New York, and leave his family behind? Yes, his mom doesn't want him anymore, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He still wants to see his family, even from just a distance... And will he let Isabelle take that away from him?


	6. The Truth About Heartbreak

Isabelle grabbed her clothes, not caring what it even is, and stuffed them in her duffel bag. When she was done with the clothes, she crouched next to her bed, and took something from underneath it. It was a black box, which she had used as her bank. She opened and saw a lot of green bills, and shut it, then stuffed it into the bag, as well. Next, she went over to her dresser and took the Lightwood family picture, still in its picture frame. They were younger in the picture, 'cause that was the only time they were ever really complete.

And, she was done! She slung her two duffel bags on each of her shoulder, and went out as noiseless as she can. She opened the door slightly, and peeked around the hall. All the doors were closed shut. She waited one more minute, and there was still nothing. She took a deep breath, and calculated her moves. She remembered one of the floorboards underneath the carpet, it creaks. She's gonna have to avoid that.

She opened the door wider, and stepped out. In no time, she was already downstairs, at the elevator. _Well, that was easy_, she thought.

But then, the elevator was another problem. It was noisy as hell. She stepped in, and tried her best- and willed the elevator- to not make any sounds. She closed the gate, and sighed, as the elevator made its way down. She finally stepped out, and rushed out of the Institute.

As soon as she reached the sidewalks, she felt free. As if there's been shackles tied around her wrist and ankles, and now they're gone. She couldn't help but giggle. She stood in the middle of the road, and went in circles. She twirled like a ballerina princess. She stopped as she saw the sky. It was still dark, and all the stars shone brightly. The moon was as big and visible as ever. She breathed in, taking in the whole picture, the whole scenario, the feeling of being free. And she moved on.

She didn't pay any attention to the pain on her shoulders, with the weight of her heavy, fully loaded duffel bags. She wouldn't mind it. She's carried the whole weight of the universe on her shoulders, she wouldn't let two bags stop her.

The breeze grew colder as she reached the cafe`. It looked so different at night, when it's closed and empty. The big umbrellas on the sidewalk tables were folded close, and the chairs were upside down on the table. The small shop was dark, and nothing was visible from the inside. It didn't feel such a warm place anymore, as it used to seem.

Her heart jumped with happiness as she saw a familiar figure sitting by the sidewalk. He looked up upon hearing her sneakers against the pavement. "Well, that's a first," he remarked, with a smirk.

She looked at him, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"Your not wearing heels," he pointed at her sneakers.

"Oh." She let the duffel bags slip from her shoulders, and drop to the ground with a loud thud. She let out a sigh of relief and exhaustion. She looked around, realizing that Simon's car wasn't in sight. "Where's the car?"

Simon didn't answer. But he shook his head. It didn't seem like he was answering Isabelle, it seemed like he was having a conversation inside his head. He cursed under his breath.

"Where are your stuff, Simon?" she was now frantic.

"Isabelle, I-"

"Where?!"

"Isabelle, I'm not running away with you!" he raised his voice. His voice seems to have echoed through the silent night. Isabelle was taken aback and silent. "I'm not running away with you," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "I'm so sorry." He stood up from the sidewalk, and went closer to her, but that was still far.

"Then, why did you let me think that. . ." she trailed off, but he knew what she meant. Why did he let her think that they were going to? Why did he let her get her expectations so high?

"Because, it's all about you, isn't it? You don't let me talk, do you? You didn't even ask me if I wanted to do this!"

"Then, why did you come?" tears sprang from her eyes.

"To tell you that I'm not coming. To put an end to this delusional plan of yours!" _Damn!_ he hissed at himself. _Do you have any idea how ass-like that sounds? _

"So... are we breaking up?" she sniffed, and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

"Is that what this looks like?"

"Yes." she said with finality.

"Then, I guess it's over. . .?"

"I'm going home." She picked up her bags and slung them on her shoulders, the same way she did earlier. She nodded once at him, and kept her gaze on the moon-illuminated pavement, and walked away from him.

_I didn't want this_, Simon thought. _I'm sorry._

* * *

__"Isabelle?" Jace saw Isabelle coming towards him, towards the Institute. She was sobbing, and she didn't let her tears fall. She wiped them with the back of her head, as soon as they came.

"Jace!" she ran towards him, and slammed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, as she did to him. His shirt immediately soaked with her tears. "It hurts, Jace! It hurts! I don't know what's happening! I don't know how to stop the pain! Help me, Jace! Make it stop!"

"Izzy," he pulled away from the hug, to cup her moist face in his hands. He tilted her head, so that her eyes met his. "What's happened? What's wrong?"

"My heart, Jace," she sobbed. "It's painful. I don't know why, but it hurts!"

"When did the pain start?"

"When-" then her breath caught, and she felt suffocated by the memory. Suddenly, she starts sobbing again. "When Simon said we were over."

"Oh, Isabelle," he said, with his gentle voice, and pulled her to his chest. "You've never felt that before, have you? 'Cause you're always the one breaking hearts."

"Is this that?" she asked. "A broken heart?"

"Yes."

"Well, it really is broken, isn't it? I thought a broken heart was just a figure of speech, and I never thought it would feel so literal."

"How does it feel?"

"Painful- like it's been ripped apart and torn to pieces and stomped on... and... several more."


	7. Kiss

"It's been a week since you've last been out of here. What really happened, Simon? " Jordan guessed, as he dumped the dishes into the sink. He went to the fridge to get two bottles of beer, and kicked the door of the fridge shut. He came over to the couch, were Simon lazily played with the Xbox.

"Thanks," Simon said, sitting up from the couch. He placed the controller on the coffee table, and took a swig from his beer. He gagged, a little. The first sip is always the nastiest.

"Isabelle?" Jordan guessed the answer to his question, and sat next to Simon. He picked the remote control from the table, and surfed for channels.

"We broke up," he took another swig, and drowned himself in it.

"Why?" he asked, even though he didn't seem to care.

"I don't know," Simon said, nonchalantly waving his bottle. He took another swig, and finished the whole thing.

Now, Jordan was interested. He sat up straight, and turned to face Simon. "You don't _know_?"

Simon didn't see Jordan's incredulous look. "I don't know, okay?! Now, do I have to say it again?"

"But you love her, right?" Simon nodded. "You're so damn stupid, Simon Lewis!"

"You think I don't know that?!" Simon looked at him now, and his eyes were blazing with fury and. . . regret. "The last time you freaked out about my relationship, turns out you dated one of my chicks, Maia. What now, you also dated Isabelle?!"

"No, I didn't," his voice was lower, more cautious, due to the sudden outburst.

"I'm sorry, man," Simon muttered. "I just want to be alone."

"I understand." Jordan got up, and took a jacket from the coat rack, and headed out. Simon watched him leave, and heard his footsteps. He sank back into the couch, and wanted the couch to engulf him so that he wouldn't have to feel the misery any longer. He closed his eyes, and drifted into darkness.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Simon bolted right up. He rubbed his eyes, wondering how long he's been out. Probably not long, since Jordan still wasn't there. He went to the door, and reluctantly opened it.

A familiar girl stood before him, but she seemed different. Her eyes weren't smudged with dark eye make-up, and her lips weren't radiant with lipstick, and the colorful nail polish on her nails has faded. Now, there were dark circles under her eyes, but it wasn't make-up, they were the damage of not being able to sleep. Her lips were cracked, her skin was pale, and her nails has bitten at the edges.

"Hi," she croaked. "Can I come in?"

He stared at her, wide-eyed and jaw-dropped, unable to process the change that has happened, the damage he has caused. But was this really his fault? Would Isabelle really do this to herself just because of him?

"I'm sorry," she said, dropping her gaze. "This is so stupid of me, I'm just.. gonna go-"

"No!" he said, hastily, and swung the door wide open. "Please, come in."

Isabelle smiled sheepishly-something she's never done before- and stepped in. She made her way to the couch, and Simon followed.

"Can I offer you something?" he asked. Isabelle shook her head. She kept her gaze on her hands, entwined with each other in front of her. She looked smaller than before. And the confidence in her has vanished. This is an entirely new Isabelle. "What's wrong?" he asked, placing his hand on top of hers.

"Something's wrong with me," she said in a small voice. "I've slept with several guys after _you_ dumped _me_. But still. . . it's you; Simon. I can't forget about you. You're all I see- everywhere I turn, it's you; when I close my eyes, it's still you. Even in my dreams. . . but every dream ends up as a nightmare, and I. . . I don't know what's happening to me.

"And it kills me to see that you're all okay, while I'm dying inside!"

"Who told you I'm okay? I'm not okay, Izzy."

They both fell silent. There was uneasiness in the atmosphere, and it was starting to get awkward. Simon barely noticed that his index were tracing circles on Isabelle's palm. It was as if his hand was moving on its own accord. Isabelle liked how it felt. She missed this- his touch, the feeling of his skin. . . She wasn't able to stop herself as she lunged for him, taking him down onto the sofa. Her lips crashed onto his, and he didn't try to stop the kiss. She was on top of him, his hands were on her waist, moving up and down at her sides. He moved his hand to touch her face, getting the strands of her loose hair out of the way. They barely even heard the front door opening.

"Holy shit!" Jordan exclaimed, wide-eyed. The whole scene caused him to drop the grocery bag.

The sudden sound startled both Isabelle and Simon, which caused Simon to bolt right up, and causing Isabelle to fall to the floor. Her hand grabbed Simon's shirt, and accidentally dragged him down with her. They fell with a loud thud.

"I'm so sorry," Jordan said, placing the groceries on top of the counter, hastily. "I'm so so so sorry. So.. uh, I'll be in my room. Have fun, kids. If you need something just knock... A condom, maybe?"

"Fuck off, Jordan!" Simon said, throwing a pillow at him. Jordan dodged and laughed, retreating into his room to give them privacy.

"Maybe we should go to your room," Isabelle smiled.

"Yeah, good idea." he agreed, getting off her. He held out his hand, and she took it.

"Are we..." she trailed off.

"Back together?" he continued. "Hell yeah!"


	8. Good-byes & City lights

Simon was propped up on his elbow, looking down at Isabelle's peaceful, sleeping figure. Her lids started to flutter, and she groaned as she stretched her arms out. She finally opened her eyes, and immediately they found Simon's.

"Morning," he was an edge to his voice, and Isabelle found it very seductive.

"Morning," she replied. She raised her head closer to him, and pecked at his lips. When she pulled away, he followed, deepening the kiss.

Isabelle giggled, and it made Simon back away, confused. "What?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just feel so giddy."

"Izzy," he said, more seriously now. He placed his hand on his cheek, his thumb tracing circles on her cheekbone. She leaned into his hand, wanting his non-existent "warmth". He's a vampire, he doesn't have a temperature, and maybe it was his mere presence, the curve of his lips as he smiles, maybe that's what made him so warm. "I'm so sorry. For breaking up with you."

"And I'm sorry for planning things without your consent." she whispered. Suddenly, his touch made a big lump on her throat, and all she could do was whisper. She closed her eyes as she felt his thumb moved down, running across her lower lip. She didn't want his thumb, she wanted his lips. On hers.

Simon closed his eyes, and bent his head down, resting his forehead on hers. The tips of their noses touched, and she wanted to lean closer to him so their lips would touch, as well. "If you still want it," he whispered. His breath tickled her skin. "we could still do it. I'm in it, now."

"I still do," she whispered. And he finally did what she wanted him to do. He leaned in closer, and their lips touched. It wasn't like last night, though. Last night's was full of hunger and need and wanting. It was intense. But this was more... romantic (?). It was pure and calm. As cheesy as it sounds, an image of pink rose petals falling from the sky entered Isabelle's head. "I love you," she whispered, and her lips brushed his.

"I love you, too," his lips brushed against her cheek.

"Why didn't you come with me, the first time I asked you to?" Isabelle asked. "Why did you break up with me?"

"I wasn't sure if I could let go of everything, just for you," he admitted. He rolled to his back, and stared up at the ceiling. "It's stupid and selfish to run away. I needed more time to think. I mean, was I really going to turn my back on everyone I love just for one person?" he turned to look at her with sincere eyes. "You have to understand, Izzy. My family is permanent, and you... you're just- hell, I don't even know how long you're gonna hang around!"

"I understand you," she said. "I thought about it, too. I knew I was going to miss everyone, but... we could always come back, right? If things go wrong, we'll come back."

"Of course," he agreed. His found found hers, and they intertwined. "And you know what I realized on the short time we were separated?" he didn't wait for an answer. "I was willing to turn my back on everyone I love just because of _you_."

* * *

"Isabelle?" Alec called, as he saw Isabelle emerging out of her room with two duffel bags in either side of her. "What's this? Are you going somewhere?"

Ever since Isabelle told Alec that she and Simon broke up, Alec was a bit more. . . Alec. He's much better now. Though, no one could deny that he's still not completely healed. Perhaps he never will heal, and the pain, the scar, will forever be there. His broken heart will never mend, but he tries to not think about it. Isabelle knows how hard that is, and she feels sorry for him. She tries to be there for him, but how will she do that, now that she's going away?

"I'm just going to throw these out," she lied. She tried to look sad, and in pain, and hoped that her excitement isn't obvious."They're junk. From Simon."

Isabelle noticed that Alec was in a pair of dark denim jeans and a gray coat. Underneath, she caught a glimpse of a white v-neck. Alec doesn't where coats unless he's going out. "You going somewhere?"

Alec let out a sigh, and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat. A humble, nervous smile spread across his face. "I'd try to see Magnus."

"Good for you!" Isabelle said. She tried to look jealous, but she couldn't. Her face lit up with happiness and excitement. _This love story may get a happy ending, after all_, she thought.

"I guess I'll go, now," he said. He turned to walk away, and hesitated as he reached the staircase. He ran back and wrapped his arms around his sister. "I love you," he said, and pulled away to cup her face in his hands. He planted a kiss on her cheek, and walked away.

"Alec!" Isabelle called. He stopped and turned to look at her. She was teary eyed. "I love you, too." She ran to him, and hugged him, tighter than she thought possible. "I love you so much." she whispered in his ear.

"What's up with you two?" Jace asked, stopping midstep on the stairs.

"Oh, Jace!" Isabelle cried. She moved away from Alec and ran to Jace. She opened her arms wide open and flung her to him, which caught him a little off balance, but he managed. "I love you!"

Then there was a third set of arms around them, and it was Alec. "What the hell is happening here?!" Jace asked.

Maryse ran to see what the commotion was all about. "Am I missing a group hug?" And she then joined.

It made Isabelle feel better. They haven't done this in a long while, ever since Max died. It was nice to do it again before she went away. It felt good to tell the people she loved, "I love you."

"I love you, mom," she whispered.

"I love you, too, hon," she smiled. There were tears streaming down her face, and they both know why. Because Maryse wished Robert and Max were there.

In that moment, they were a family.

* * *

"What's happening here?" a familiar voice asked, as Simon loaded their stuff into the trunk of his new Honda. Both Simon and Isabelle turned to see the familiar radiant red hair and a pair of green eyes and a freckled pale face.

"Clary!" Isabelle cried. She lunged at Clary, wrapping her arms around the startled little girl. "Oh, Clary."

"Isabelle, what's up?" she asked, when the tall girl finally moved away.

"Promise me not to tell anyone," Isabelle said. Clary nodded. "Promise me." Isabelle repeated.

"I promise." she sighed.

"Simon and I... are running away." Clary's green eyes widened.

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "What the hell?!"

"It's fun and exciting," Isabelle reasoned, since running away wasn't even necessary anymore. "Don't worry. We'll come back when we're tired."

"At least, tell me where you're going," Clary demanded.

"California," Simon, who was now next to Isabelle, answered. "LA, maybe."

"Or all around the world," Isabelle countered. "We'll keep in touch... with you, at least."

* * *

Simon and Isabelle had said their good-bye's to dear little Clary, and proceeded on the road. Isabelle stared out the window, admiring the setting sun, causing the sky to explode with colors. Eventually, the sky turned dark and the stars showed up. Isabelle smiled up at them.

She looked at the still busy streets, and everything just flashed by. The bright city lights weren't so different from the stars.


	9. Birthdays & Letters

**_4 years later..._**

"So, Isabelle," said Aline, struggling to get up on the stool next to Isabelle. "I heard it's your 20th birthday today. How does it feel?"

"Average," she said. "Another one!" she shouted at the bartender, pointing at her shot glass. The bartender obliged and poured in another.

Isabelle plans to drown herself in liquor due to depression. She's 20, now, and Simon... well, he's still 16-year old Simon. She hated it.

"OMG, Isabelle!" Aline's eyes were popping out. "Is that a strand of white hair?!"

"What, where?" she rummaged in her hair, looking for any sign of aging.

Aline giggled, "Gotcha!"

"Bitch," she mumbled, gulping down the alcohol. She couldn't even remember what it was.

"Don't be so sour!" Aline said, nudging her rib with her elbow. Isabelle met Aline two years after they moved in in Beverly Hills. They met over shopping, and found that they had almost the same fashion sense. Aline still hasn't met Simon, and has been badgering Isabelle about it, like a pest. Isabelle didn't want her to meet Simon. "Any plans tonight?"

"I don't know," she answered, glumly. "Another one- oh, on second thought, why don't you just give me a whole pitcher?" The bartender looked at her with disbelief, but he still did as she said. He came back with a pitcher of the alcohol, and Isabelle smiled in delight. "Come to mama."

Just as she took a swig from the pitcher, she heard a soft plucking of guitar strings, and a familiar voice, singing to her:

_You'll never love yourself half as much as I love you _  
_And you'll never treat yourself right _  
_Darlin' but I want you to _  
_If I let you know I'm here for you _  
_Maybe you'll love yourself _  
_Like I love you _  
_Oh _

_And I've just let these little things, slip out of my mouth _  
_Cause it's you _  
_Oh it's you, it's you _  
_They add up to _  
_And I'm in love with you _  
_And all these little things_

She didn't look back until he said, "Happy birthday, Isabelle Lightwood."

There was a chorus of awww's from the rest of the people from the bar. Even the jazz band, who has been performing clapped their hands for Simon.

"Is this the legendary Simon Lewis?" Aline asked, when Simon finally approached them. The guitar was strapped at his back.

"At your service," Simon bowed. His lips curled up into a smile, and he took a peck at Isabelle's lips.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with dating someone several years younger than you," Aline mumbled, and ordered a martini from the bartender.

* * *

_Dear Simon and Isabelle,_

_How are you, guys? I guess there're no complications, since you still haven't come home. You see, I was bored, and I wanted to try using the postal service, so... here it is. Oh, and we're really good, here. Except for one thing._

_Isabelle, the three of us (Me, Jace and Alec) were sent to Idris, due to an emergency. Demons have entered Alicante once again, and... there is no easy way of saying this, but Alec didn't survive. He died 3 weeks ago, and I'm so sorry for just saying this now. We were all devastated, especially Jace, now that his parabatai is lost. But the loss seemed to have brought your parents back. Robert is here at the New York Institute with us, now. _

_I don't want to fill this letter with sad news, so here. I am getting married. Jace and I! In Alicante, just in case you want to come. _

_We miss you guys so much._

_Love,_

_Clary_

* * *

_Dear Clary,_

_How's the married life? Sorry it took me years to write back to your first letter._

_There aren't any complications, not major, at least. Things are going great between us. Isabelle has just been so insecure ever since she turned 17, much worse now that she's 25. I keep telling her that she's as beautiful as ever, but she doesn't believe me. To be honest, she's really beautiful. But she kinda looks like Maryse. Sometimes it feels like I'm kissing Maryse. Don't tell Isabelle that, she'll feel so old._

_Anyway, Isabelle, even after 5 years, still mourns over her brother. She cries herself to sleep, sometimes. She's back to Shadowhunting, though. Turns out, there're lots of demons here in LA. _

_These things really are cooler than e-mail, isn't it? I'm enjoying myself! I'd even get to choose a stamp!_

_We miss you, too._

_Simon_

* * *

"Look at them," Isabelle said. She had her head down in shame. Simon looked around the restaurant. There were a lot of people, some were engaged in their own colorful conversations, and some were so focused on deciding what to order, while the table next to theirs were looking at them with so much curiosity. "They think I'm a cougar."

"Since when did you care what people think?" Simon asked, putting his hand on top of hers.

"Since I turned 17," she answered bitterly. "and you turned forever 16."

"Now that I think about it, I could build a store called Forever 16. A Forever 21 spin-off." he mumbled.

Isabelle kicked his foot from under the table. "Ow!" he exclaimed. He reached out to her face, and raised it by the chin. His eyes were sincere. "You look beautiful as ever." He leaned forward to kiss her, and Isabelle heard the couple from the next table grunt with disgust. She wanted to irritate them even more, so she deepened the kiss.

"Forty and rocking it," Simon said, when they pulled away.

"Ugh!" she groaned. "Don't even remind me that I'm 40!"

"You're beautiful, why won't you believe me?"

She didn't answer, and still didn't believe him. She'd cut her hair, had a full bangs trying not to look as old as she already was. She would've passed to be his mother, now. Her black hair was now graying, and little wrinkles are starting to appear on her forehead._ How could I be beautiful?_ she thought.


	10. The End

**_40 years..._**

"Here's your dinner," said Simon, pushing the door open with one foot. He carried a tray, which carried the soup he's about to feed Isabelle. Isabelle laid on the bed, with one hand on her chest. It wasn't until Simon was close to her that he saw what she was holding. It was her ruby pendant, the one that glows when demons are nearby. It was glowing and rattling, a bit. It glows often, but there was nothing Isabelle could do. She couldn't gear up and run after it the way she used to. Instead, she just laid in bed, like now, and ignores the urge to go and hunt them down.

He set the tray on the bed-side table, and went to assist Isabelle. She made a gesture with her hand to stop him from getting her to sit. "I'm not hungry," she said. Her voice was frail and weak. She was exactly as Magnus described Beatrice. Old and wrinkled. Nothing's the same, except for her eyes.

"But you have to eat, Izzy," Simon argued.

"Not now," she said. A smile spread across her face. "I could feel it coming, Simon."

"Feel what?" he sat beside her, curious. He was like a teenage boy who wants to hear a bedtime story from his grandma.

"The end," she said. She put her wrinkled hand on Simon's face, and a tear of blood from him fell to them. The tear rolled down her wrinkled skin, and onto the blanket. "Don't cry."

"How can I not cry?" he whined. "You're leaving me. I'm going to be all alone, now. While you're going to have tea parties in Heaven with Jace and Alec and Clary and Max and your parents."

"Oh, that's right," her eyes shone with tears and great enthusiasm. "A tea party would be nice."

Simon climbed in the bed beside her. He placed his arm under her neck, cradling her head. He twirled her silver hair in his finger, and remembered when they were still black. "I'm going to miss you," he whispered.

"Sing me a song, Si," she pleaded.

"I don't have any-" he was about to argue, but realizing that it could be her last request, he decided to do an on-the-spot, freestyle.

He sang an acapella, afraid that if he walked out to get his guitar, she'd die without him by her side. He knew it was her greatest fear- to die alone.

_I wanna make you smile whenever you're sad_  
_Carry you around when your arthritis is bad_  
_All I wanna do is grow old with you_

_I'll get your medicine when your tummy aches_  
_Build you a fire if the furnace breaks_  
_Oh it could be so nice, growing old with you_

_I'll miss you_  
_Kiss you_  
_Give you my coat when you are cold_

_Need you_  
_Feed you_  
_Even let ya hold the remote control_

_So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink_  
_Put you to bed if you've had too much to drink_  
_I could be the man who grows old with you_  
_I wanna grow old with you_

"You came up with that just now?" Isabelle asked.

"It's that bad, huh," he said, running his hand through his hair.

"No, it's very sweet."

He closed his eyes, and imagined how Isabelle used to look like. She had beautiful, fair skin; long, silky jet black hair; she was tall and her legs were long. She was like a model.

He opened his eyes, and now he saw how much she's changed. Her fair skin was wrinkled, her jet black hair was silver, she didn't look tall anymore, instead she looked small and frail. She was withering. "I have an idea," he exclaimed, though his voice was weak and muffled with tears. "I want you to close your eyes, and let your imagination flow."

She did as he said, and listened to his instructions. "Imagine being at the altar, as ordinary people, not Shadowhunter," he said. "You're in a beautiful, lavish white dress and I'm in a tux..."

Isabelle stood at the altar with Simon, and they were surrounded by the people they loved, and loved them back. Alec was there, his arms were linked with Magnus. Beside them was Jace and Clary. Next to them was Robert and Maryse, whose eyes shone with tears, and Max, who was a little older, 13, maybe. At the other side of the room was Simon's mom, Elaine, and Rebecca. They all enjoyed the wedding.

"3 years later, you're in our bedroom, looking down into a crib, where our baby laid," he continued. "Imagine him-"

"Her!" Isabelle argued, her eyes still closed.

"Okay," he hushed. "Her. Imagine her having my eyes and... everything of yours."

Isabelle looked down at the baby in the crib. Her head was still bald, hairless, and she had the same eyes as her father. Her eyes glowed upon seeing her mother. Isabelle reached down to her and gathered her up in her arms. Simon emerged from out of nowhere, and placed his arms around the two most important girls in his life.

Next, they were in a school, a preschool. Their child reached up, and held onto the tips of Simon's fingers. Simon leaned down, and grabbed her hand gently in his. He couldn't resist, and just picked her up from the ground and carried her. Isabelle walked behind Simon, and reached out at the small hands of her daughter.

Next, Simon and Isabelle were next to each other, seated next to several other parents. They looked up at the stage, and there was their daughter, in her graduation attire. She walked across the stage, as she took the diploma from the principal. Isabelle raised her camera, and captured the moment. They stood, and clapped proudly at their daughter. She blushed, embarrassed by her parents.

Next, Simon and Isabelle were seated at a round table, together with Jace and Clary, Magnus and Alec. They were having tea at a garden, and their grandchildren ran around them. Their kids were at work, and they were left with their kids' kids, whom they took to the greenhouse in Magnus and Alec's home.

"Kids, careful," Jace called out. "You wouldn't want to be trippin' over Grandpa Alec's flowers, because grandpa Magnus would skin you alive."

The kids stopped running, dead on the spot, and looked up at Jace with wide eyes and open mouths.

"You shouldn't scare them like that," Clary said, but she was shaking from holding back her laugh.

"Well, I really _will_ skin them alive, if ever they stepped on the flowers," Magnus countered.

The group laughed altogether.

Next, and probably the last scene in their little imaginative life, Simon and Isabelle were seated on a two-sitter swing. They looked up at the sky, which was stained with the colors of the sunset. Isabelle was huddled to Simon's side, and he had his arms around her shoulders. They were both old, both wrinkled, both with silver hair.

"That was nice," Isabelle finally said. She was back in her bed, not in the little paradise Simon had showed her.

"Wish it was real, don't you?" he rested his chin lightly on top of her head.

"Simon," she said, ignoring what he'd asked. "Our love, even though I am not, is _everlasting_. Remember that, always."

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," her voice grew weaker.

"Forever," he added.

"Forever," it only came out as a sigh, as she took in her final breath. Her chest didn't rise again, and it took Simon a moment before realizing what had happened. Death has finally dawned upon his dearly beloved.

Simon's body shook, as he cried. He wrapped his arms tighter around Isabelle's limp body. He sobbed and sobbed, until he couldn't breathe any longer. Tears of blood streamed down his face. Her dead body grew heavier, but he still didn't let her go.

He slept with the dead body through the night, with his arms still wrapped around her. In the morning, she carried her and transported her to Idris, where her body was burned and her ashes were placed in a mausoleum with the rest of the Lightwood's. He took a few of her, though, and placed her in a small pendant jar, which he always had around his neck.

* * *

**_A very sad and tragic ending for my favorite OTP, Sizzy. The ending had me crying as I typed it, but oh well..._**

**_Hope you enjoyed it, as much as I did as I typed it. Any of you have tumblr? Comment me your tumblr URL, I'd love to follow some blogs. _**

**_xoxo_**

**_;)_**


	11. Epilogue

The doorbell rang, and Magnus wondered who it might be- though, he already knew the answer.

"Told you it would be the two of us," he grinned, as he saw a familiar sixteen-year old boy outside his doorstep.

"She's dead," he said, looking up at the warlock. "Mind if I stay here?"

"No worries," said Magnus, opening the door wider for Simon. He gestured for him to come in. He snapped his fingers, and blue glitters appeared. "I've already prepared a room for you."

"Have beer, or something?" Simon asked, collapsing on Magnus' red velvet couch.

With a snap of a finger, two bottles of beer appeared in his hand. He handed one to Simon, but the boy took both. He finished one with a big gulp, and turned to the other. Magnus snapped his finger once again, and an entire case of beer were in his arms. He settled them down on the coffee table in front of Simon, who immediately reached out for one.

"How's Alec?" Simon asked, forgetting about the letter Clary sent. Magnus sat beside him, not too close, though.

"Died in Idris," he answered. His voice wasn't as cheerful as earlier. "Isabelle?"

"Died... in my arms," he said, taking another swig from the bottle of beer.

"Well, my friend," Magnus let out and exasperated sigh. "we've got a whole eternity to dwell with this pain."

"Cheers," said Simon, bumping his bottle to Magnus'. "Drink to that."

Magnus nodded, and took a swig from his bottle.

"I'm not gay, though, bro," Simon mumbled.

"Of course you're not," Magnus grinned. "No gay person would dress as poorly as you."


End file.
